


Jade: stage a distraction.

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domesticity, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jade," she says, pretending to be stern, a warning you aren't frightened of. You nuzzle her shoulder, then let your teeth just barely graze the shell of her ear. "Do not force me to take drastic measures."</p>
<p>"Oh no," you say, grinning, "anything but that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jade: stage a distraction.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jalules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalules/gifts).



> Adorable girlfriends in love and happily misusing horrorterrors for sex? WOW SIGN ME UP, thank you so much for requesting this so that I had a chance to write it. <3

It's already dark when you come home, your breath puffing little clouds in the air in front of you, the world ever so slightly too quiet outside your earmuffs. The trees that grow up all over the place around Rose's house are skeletal this time of year, spooky bare branches reaching up toward the just-risen moon. Some evenings it strikes you just how far you are from where you grew up, how different this place is that you now call home.

You let yourself in the front door and scrunch your way out of your boots—they have bits of crusty old snow in them and you don't want to track that all over the house—and hang up all of your winter-armor clothes. "I'm home!" you call into the house.

"Welcome home," Rose's voice answers, floating down to you from upstairs. You saw the light on in her study outside. You know she probably hasn't quit working yet.

Well, you can give her a few minutes to wrap up! You wander into the parlor, which used to be full of furniture that nobody ever sat on and is now full of full-spectrum lights and big pots of dirt. You couldn't bring your entire island with you when you moved, but you've done your best to make your own little indoor jungle here!

You poke around in there for a few minutes, pinching off leaves that have gone yellow, watering plants that look thirsty, admiring things that are starting to blossom or set fruit. You give the entire lot of them a pep talk and by then you figure you've given Rose a good ten or fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for her to finish whatever sentence she was agonizing over.

You take the stairs two at a time, bounding up them without bothering to put the light on. You know your way around. You skid around the sneaky bookcase in the upstairs hallway that's always trying to catch you by surprise, stop for a second to skritch the kitty who's perched on it right now, and then stroll into the study like you're in no hurry at all.

Rose is crouched over her keyboard, staring intently into her screen. Her hands hover over the keys for a second, then burst into a flurry of motion. The fierce look of concentration she gets in those moments, like she's having a fight and winning, is so _cute_. (You don't tell her that, usually. She's like one of her kitties: you have to tell her she's elegant and mysterious, when what you mean is she's adorable and you want to fuzzle her, or else she gets all puffed up and pretends to be offended.)

"How's the story going?" you ask as you come over and drape yourself over her back. You bury your face in her neck and breathe deep. She smells lovely and strange, night-blooming flowers and woody herbs, a beautiful mix of scents that's become one of the ways you know you're home.

"I'm making progress," she says evenly. Her hands still again, waiting. "I'm hoping to finish this scene before I stop for the evening."

"Hmmm," you say. You left for the lab at seven-thirty this morning and Rose was already having her first cup of tea. She's probably been writing since you left, if you know her (and you do).

She turns in her seat enough to favor you with one raised eyebrow. "That was an awfully suspicious noise."

"It's been hours and hours!" you point out. "The story will still be there in the morning."

Rose shakes her head. "I shouldn't need too long," she says.

She gets like this sometimes, so focused on her work that she stops thinking about taking breaks. Taking breaks is important! It keeps everyone from getting frustrated and unhappy. So when she shrugs, which is supposed to be your cue to let go, you don't.

"Jade," she says, pretending to be stern, a warning you aren't frightened of. You nuzzle her shoulder, then let your teeth just barely graze the shell of her ear. "Do not force me to take drastic measures."

"Oh no," you say, grinning, "anything but that."

"I will ask you one more time," Rose says. You can already feel the room getting weird, the sort of ozone-prickly smell and the odd gooeyness in the air. Space isn't behaving quite right in your immediate vicinity, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I will not be deterred!" you tell her cheerfully. If she thinks a little weirdness is going to stop you, well—okay, no, she probably doesn't actually expect it to work at all. She's too smart for that. "It's quitting time and you know it!"

You can feel the pop-shift-bend of gravity, the completely weird things that Rose's magick does to space and causality, and it makes you need to do the psychic equivalent of a sneeze, whatever that is. Then a tentacle gets you around the ankle and you squeak, completely distracted.

"Hopefully this will keep you entertained," Rose says, sounding smug. More tentacles come to join the first one, curling around your legs, your waist, pulling you backward away from Rose's chair. "I promise I'll come join you as soon as I can."

"You fight so dirty," you say, but you're still not really upset. This is kind of exciting!

The tentacles pull you back into a kind of cradle, buoying you up off the ground on their thick, squirming lengths. When you look, you can't figure out what exactly they're attached to, and it feels like there might be an open rift near the door. You're being held down—well, held up—by a horrorterror that is reaching through a dimensional rift to get you.

Frankly, it sounds like one of the dirty extra scenes that Rose cuts out of her novels and replaces with coy little asterisks in the final draft! But you know she likes writing those bits the best. You wiggle a little bit, seeing how much room to move the tentacles will give you. One of them has gotten wrapped most of the way up your leg, the tip coiled against your thigh, above your knee socks where the skin is bare.

You make a little whimpery noise to see if it'll get Rose's attention. Her back stiffens a bit. _Bingo_. "Oh," you say. "Aah."

"Now you're just trying to be a nuisance," Rose says without looking back at you.

You grin. You'll show her nuisance.

She doesn't seem to have told the tentacles what to do with your arms, so they're free to move. You pull off your sweater and then the t-shirt underneath, tossing them out of reach. It's a little chilly in here but not too bad, and the tentacles are warmer than you thought they'd be. They pet your belly, and you pet them back.

Your skirt is a bit more trouble. You can undo the buttons but you can't kick it off all the way, because of how tightly your legs are being held. You settle for squirming around and pushing it down as much as you can. There, now you're trapped in a nest of tentacles and mostly undressed. Almost perfect!

You grab the free end of one of the higher-up tentacles and stuff it down the front of your bra. It feels kind of weird just sitting there but it'll do! You have to fumble around a little bit for one that you can push into your underwear, but you find one. You're resourceful that way.

"Rose," you say, pitching your voice as breathy and needy as you can manage without giggling. "Rose, aah, are they s-supposed to be doing this?"

"Are they supposed to be—" Rose spins in her chair and her voice _dies_ , just like that, and it's the hardest thing in the world to keep from laughing at the way her eyes go wide. You squirm and bite your lip and try not to let the ones you're using as props fall out of place. "No," she says, getting up and crossing the room to you. Little sparks of power fly up around her. "No, they're not supposed to be doing that at all."

You grab her arms as soon as she's close enough and pull her up against you. "Well, why not? It would be _awesome_."

Making Rose blush is tough, so you feel like a boss whenever you manage. Right now? You are so managing. Her cheeks turn pink as her lipstick and she makes the face that says _I would be so mad at you right now if I didn't think you were amazing_. "You are completely incorrigible," she says.

"And unstoppable," you say. "So come on, can we— _oh_ ," because the tentacle you stuffed in your bra is now curling around your left breast and kneading. The tip curls against your nipple and sets off a little chain reaction of _yes please_ through your nerves.

"You should be careful what you wish for," Rose says. "You never know when you might get it." She leans in to kiss you and the whole tentacle nest squirms, shifting you toward her, taking a better grip on you, discarding your skirt and pulling your legs up and apart. They pull your arms down and back so your breasts are thrust forward, and Rose unclasps your bra while she kisses you. She pinches both your nipples, hard, and you shiver.

She pulls back to take stock of the position you're in: held up and thoroughly restrained by the nest of tentacles, wearing only your knee socks and your underwear, your nipples hard and your face flushing warm. The tentacle in your underwear moves just a little bit, like it's exploring, and you make a whining noise before you can help yourself.

"You'll tell me if you reach your limits," she says, and you nod, because you know that was a question despite how it sounded. "Good. I may be merciless with my characters, but I have no wish to be so with you."

"Not even a _little_ merciless?" you ask, because you'd hate to see her trying to stop herself before she's even gotten started.

Rose smiles. "Perhaps a bit. Remember, then, that you did ask for it." She kisses you again, and the tentacles wind up the insides of your thighs, brushing and teasing there without actually slipping into your underwear to join the first one. That one's trying to drive you crazy, stroking the lips of your pussy too gently to part them, while Rose pinches and twists your nipples.

You give up on being difficult and let yourself just moan, pushing toward Rose as much as the tentacles will let you. It's good and exciting and you want more, wow. She lets go of one of your nipples and reaches up to run a hand through your hair, taking a good grip and pulling your head back.

"Shall I tell them to fill you?" she murmurs in your ear. Your clit pulses so hard it hurts. "I think I'd like to see that." Her voice is just the tiniest bit shaky. "I'd like to see you squirming, coming undone. Filled with as many of my tentacles as you can take."

" _Rose_ ," you moan, because you think you just had some kind of critical system overload and there is a nuclear meltdown happening in your underwear. That one tentacle is still petting you too gently to do any good, even when you try to push your hips toward it. "Do it, oh my god."

You can't see the moment when she gives them the command but wow can you feel it. One tentacle hooks through the crotch of your underwear and pulls them aside, and other ones start to stroke you, a little harder, so they part your lips and spread your wetness around. You jolt and shiver every time one of them brushes your clit, but they don't linger there. One of them teases right at your opening, pushing just barely and then retreating, until you're whining in frustration.

"Come on," you pant, "come on, come on," and finally Rose gives in, the tentacle curling smoothly up into you. You have a tiny warm-up orgasm as soon as it's all the way in, one of those quick ones that's just like an appetizer before the main course.

"Oh, you're lovely," Rose tells you, and you can hear how much she means it, admitting more than she probably wanted to. You let your head fall back as the tentacle inside you squirms, pressing and retreating. It's not quite like anything else—Rose's hands are clever and she knows all kinds of ways to touch you, but the boneless ripple of the tentacle is new. "More," she says, doing the statement-question thing again.

You nod. "Lots more," you say. That's the point of tentacle scenes, right? _Lots_ of tentacles, all over the place.

Rose leans over you, kissing and biting the line of your throat, making the hair stand up on the back of your neck. She's probably thinking of vampires when she does that, but you're thinking of wolves, of pack submission, baring your throat to say _I trust you_. And you do, oh, you do trust her, relaxing into it easily when another tentacle curls up between your legs and eases its way in beside the first one. It's a stretch, being filled up by both of them, but it's good. You feel them twisting inside you, making you feel hot and sensitive.

"Here, too," Rose says, toying with your nipples as another tentacle squirms down the back of your underwear, slick and dripping.

"Yes," you gasp as it squirms into the crack of your ass. Now she's getting the idea. Tentacles are for _excess_ , going everywhere they can fit. You exhale slowly as the tip of that one starts to push its way up your ass. It's really thin at the tip and that makes it easy, but then it starts rippling and thickening as it goes deeper and you moan.

Rose slides one hand down between your legs to press her fingers to your clit, circling slowly. You squirm in the tentacles' grip, trying to get her to speed up. There's another orgasm waiting for you right at the edge of your senses, sneaking up, and you want it to just hurry and _happen_ already.

"How does it feel?" Rose asks you, and she's probably trying for a detached curious tone but you can hear a little tremble in her voice.

"W-wouldn't you like to, oh—oh, oh, _yes_ ," you moan as the second one gets you, stronger than the first, epicenters everywhere you're being teased and filled.

Rose pulls her hand away as you come down off that one, giving you a chance to recover from the too-sensitive moment, but she doesn't tell the tentacles to stop: they're still pistoning slowly inside you, not letting you totally relax. Her cheeks are flushed, her pupils blown as she watches you shiver. You lick your lips.

"You should f-feel this," you tell her, trying to get your composure back a little, trying to fluster her a little more. "It's not like having anything else inside you."

"Oh, believe me, I know," she says, giving you that smirky little smile that you'd kiss off her smug face if you could reach.

"Fuck!" you say. You struggle with the tentacles but they won't let you go, won't let you reach for her and drag her down with you. "Show me. Come on, Rose, you play too, let me see."

She licks her lips. "You're insatiable."

"And irresistible," you say hopefully. You rock your hips, drawing Rose's attention to the push and slide of the tentacles inside you, the wet sounds they make. "Come on. You want to feel it, not just watch."

"I like watching," she says.

"Yeah, well, me too," you say, and make a good try at frowning sternly. You're not good at stern, though, and you let it go after a second in favor of shamelessness, which you do a lot better. "Please, Rose. Ah—please."

She's fumbling with her cardigan, and her unsteady hands mean you're really getting to her, so there. You watch her strip, her clothes tossed back toward her computer in too much of a hurry for neatness. "You are a terror," she says fondly. "I don't know how anyone manages self-control around you."

You grin. "That's the idea!" you say, and you still can't reach for her but you're straining against the tentacles anyway as she steps naked into the nest of them and they buoy her up, bring her closer. She slips an arm around your waist and kisses you hungrily. A tentacle slides between you, wriggling down the length of your belly, and then Rose moans. You can feel the tentacle's rhythmic pulsing and you know it must be inside her.

"Oh, _wow_ ," you breathe against her mouth as you feel her hips rocking. You're a slippery hot mess between your legs and you ache at the sight of her giving up her control like this—she spends so much time being all uptight and collected, it just wrecks you to see her letting go.

"You want to hear that I, hhn, enjoy this," she whispers. "That I like how it feels." She shifts and the nest writhes around you both, so she can catch one of your thighs between hers and grind against you. She's soaking wet, rubbing up against your skin, and you can feel the tentacle pushing into her.

"Yes, wow, yes, Rose," you say, peppering her face with kisses, anywhere you can reach. "You're so hot, oh my god." Her eyelids flutter and you know from experience that's a found-the-g-spot reaction and it turns out that's just as neat to watch when it's not you doing it. "Show me how you did it by yourself."

She gives you this smolderingly hot look as she leans back, you could die of it, wow, and then a couple more of the tentacles come snaking up to press into her mouth. Two of them, then three, stretching her jaw wide and thrusting in rhythm. You're _melting_ watching this, feeling her rock harder against your thigh. You didn't know she'd want that. You're going to have to remember this next time you're using a strap-on. Rose is moaning, whimpering around the tentacles in her mouth, and the look in her eyes is less sultry now and more just pleading. Oh _god_.

"Rose, Rose, oh my god," you're gasping, moaning with her, feeling so hot and needy as the tentacles inside you swell a little more. You lean closer and lick the ones disappearing into her mouth. "Let me see you let go," you say. "I want to watch you come like this, Rose, please."

She shivers and closes her eyes, nodding just a little bit. You recognize the way her focus turns inward, the way she always sort of seems like she has to do it on purpose, shut out the rest of the world and just think about her body—the tentacles in her mouth and her pussy, the rough pressure where she grinds her clit against your thigh—to get there. She goes tense in little ratcheting-up degrees, her breaths short and shaky, her whole body trembling, and then all at once she's sobbing, thrashing in the tentacles' grip and her thighs tight around yours.

"Oh fuck, Rose," you say, tingling and aching all over and so ready for the big one. You lap at the tentacles in her mouth again. "Here, let me have them, let me try," you plead.

Rose makes a low sound of agreement and the tentacles slip from her mouth to fill yours, one at a time until you're the one with your jaw pried open as far as it'll go. "Yes," she says then, her voice husky and raw, "now it's your turn to let me watch. Does it feel good, having me stuff you as full as you can get?"

You whine in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut and rocking your hips. You're a shivery needy mess now and you can't even make demands properly, your hands caught and your mouth full. Rose's hand runs down your belly slowly, teasingly light, and you keen in desperation as you try to get her to go the last couple inches to where you really want her. She hesitates just a little bit longer, probably paying you back for getting under her skin so much, and then finally she's stroking your clit again as the tentacles inside you press forward and up at just the right angle, _yes_. This time you're loud as hell, gasping and sobbing and moaning as you come, shockwaves of bright golden sensation spreading out all through you as you twist and shake in the tentacles' grip.

The ones in your mouth are the first to retreat as you come down, which is good because wow, you need a little help catching your breath there. You give Rose a big stupid grin, too, and she reaches out to brush sweat-sticky hair off your temple.

"Satisfied?" she asks with that little so-Rose smile.

"You're the best girlfriend," you tell her. "Even if you have to be pestered into it sometimes."

The other tentacles back off slowly, sliding out of you, easing both of you down to the floor. Rose waves a hand to banish them and they all disappear through the doorway with a _pop_ , leaving the two of you alone. "I could be convinced to nominate you for the title as well," she says. "Even if you are sometimes a terrible pest."

"You love it," you say.

"I must." She climbs to her feet, almost steady, and offers you a hand to help you up. "Time for a shower, I believe."

You wrap your arms around her because you can, now, without the tentacles in the way, and you don't think you'll ever get tired of how it feels to have her body bare against yours. "Kay. It's my turn to make dinner tonight, isn't it?"

Rose nods. "While you're cooking, do you suppose I could finish the scene I was working on without further interruptions?"

"Mmm, that sounds fair," you agree. You grin. "No promises after dinner, though."

She's smiling as she drags you off to the bathroom. Yep. She loves it. And so do you.


End file.
